


Taking Off the Ritz

by veleda_k



Category: White Collar
Genre: Clothing Kink, Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veleda_k/pseuds/veleda_k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and El attend a fancy dress party, but the real celebration starts after they get home. Set pre-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Off the Ritz

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo on DW, for the prompt, "dressup."

Peter grimaced as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his bow tie for the hundredth time, not that it seemed to help. He could see why they called it a monkey suit. He certainly felt like one. And he looked absurd.

Peter didn't mind wearing suits to work. Like many places, the FBI had a uniform. Wearing the uniform was part of being professional and dedicated. But a tuxedo was something else. Not only did it look ridiculous, a tuxedo also meant the kind of fancy events that Peter loathed, filled with over-hyped alcohol and food with names he couldn't hope to pronounce. Normally, he'd try to avoid this kind of thing, but tonight was Burk Premier Events's annual holiday party. The company had turned a solid profit for the first time this year, and El was over the moon. She had planned a gala event to celebrate, and tuxedo or not, Peter couldn't let her down. He just hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself and embarrass her. 

At that moment El walked in. She looked gorgeous. Her dress was dark blue and left her shoulders bare. She had accented with gold and diamond jewelry, including a diamond choker as well as the earrings that Peter had bought her for her birthday that year. (All right, she had told him exactly what she wanted. And then she had gone to the store to pick them up after he got distracted with a case. But he had wrapped them himself.) She looked him up and down and smiled. “You like great,” she told him, which was nice of her to say. She stepped up beside him and started to put on her makeup. Peter tried not to gape at her. The dress hugged her generous curves, and Peter couldn't stop sneaking glances at the warm smoothness of her bare shoulders. People who thought that marriage and settling down took the spark out of a relationship had never seen El.

 _Down boy_ , Peter thought. As much as he'd like to toss El over his shoulder and head to the bed, they had a party to attend, and El probably wouldn't thank him for messing up her hair and makeup. He tugged at the bow tie once more. 

El nudged his shoulder. “It looks fine.” She kissed his cheek and held out her arm. “Shall we go?”

“My lady.” Peter took her arm. Even with the specter of bizarre food and pretentious conversation looming over him, with El's arm in his, nothing could seem too terrible. 

The party wasn't as awful as Peter feared it would be. The other guests were all El's employees and their families and friends, and were much more fun to talk to than the wanna-be modern art experts he encountered when working undercover. Instead of dreary classical music, El had booked a lively salsa band, and Peter was able to skip the wine list (which was long and no doubt impressive to anyone who liked that sort of thing) and get himself a damn good scotch on the rocks. And while there was plenty of weird food, El was able to find him several items containing all recognizable ingredients.

“Crab puffs, artichoke dip with crackers, and bruschetta,” she informed him, handing him a plate. Peter eyed the bruschetta suspiciously. El laughed. “It's bread, tomato, garlic, and cheese. There's nothing there you don't like.”

Peter gave her a look. “I'm not five years old.” 

“I know.” El kissed his cheek. “You're my ever patient husband.” She took his hand. “The food can wait. Let's dance.” 

Peter hesitated. They had taken lessons for their wedding, but he didn't consider himself much of a dancer. But El clearly wanted to, and he hadn't embarrassed himself at the wedding. He smiled. “I'd love to.”

He let her lead him to the dance floor, and then drew her near. They kept the steps simple, and the rhythm, though fast, wasn't hard to pick up. 

El was radiant. Her smile beamed, and the way she moved her hips made Peter's mouth go dry. “Having fun?” she asked him.

“Yeah.” He was surprised to find that he was. 

“I've always wanted to take salsa lessons,” El said. “We could do it together.”

Anything that involved dancing with El couldn't be that bad. “Sure, if we can ever find the time.”

El smiled wryly. “With our schedules, it will take us ten years.”

“We'll make time,” he assured her. “I promise.”

They danced to several songs. Peter noticed that while when they had first arrived on the floor the other couples hadn't paid them any attention, several people were now giving them considering looks. Peter looked down to make sure he didn't have sauce on his shirt. There was none. He reminded himself that this was a party, not an op. People could look where they liked. 

“I could use some champagne,” El said. She flagged down a waiter and snagged two champagne flutes as they headed back to their table. “We need to toast,” she told Peter as she handed him one of the flutes. “To Burke Premier Events.” She raised her glass.

“To the woman who made it all happen,” Peter added. 

“I couldn't have done it without you.” El covered his hand with hers.

“To us, then.”

“To us,” El echoed, touching his glass with her own. In that moment Peter couldn't believe how lucky he was. It was more than her diamonds glinting in the light, more than the designer dress. It was just her. “You're the most beautiful women I've ever met,” he told her.

She squeezed his hand. “With the most handsome man.” She leaned in and kissed him lightly. Then she picked up one of her appetizers, and it was amazing how El could make even eating caviar look appealing. 

Peter's plate tasted as good as El had promised, but he couldn't fully enjoy it. Before, he had been willing to write it off as his paranoid FBI instincts, but now he was sure: people were definitely looking at him. What he didn't know was why. He didn't want to alarm El, but her employees were acting suspiciously. “You trust, Yvonne, right?” he said to El.

She blinked at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Is there any chance she's embezzling?” he asked reluctantly. “Or doing something else off the books?” He knew the question would make El angry, but he had to know. Working white collar had taught him that even the most trusted employee could make a terrible decision. 

As he predicted, El's eyes narrowed angrily. “Of course she's not! Peter, why would you think something like that?”

“She keeps eying me. She knows I'm FBI, I could be making her nervous. And it's not only her. More than a few of these guests have been shooting glances our way.”

El's anger immediately evaporated. “Oh, sweetie,” she said affectionately, “how can you be so brilliant in some ways, and so clueless in others?” 

Peter frowned. He didn't blame her for not wanting to believe him, but it hurt that she would blow him off like that, especially when he was trying to protect her.

El leaned in. “Hon,” she whispered, “they think you're hot.”

Peter couldn't have heard that right. “What?”

El shook her head. “You really don't see it.”

“See _what_?” Peter knew he wasn't hideous. He'd never had any particular trouble attracting women. (Talking to them was another matter.) But he also knew that El way outclassed him.

El looked at him intently. “You're always sexy, but the tux does add a little something extra.” She grinned cheekily.

Peter wasn't sure what to say. El seemed to realize that, because her smile grew softer. “Just accept the compliment, hon.” She dropped her voice low. “And when we get home, I'll show you exactly irresistible I think you are.”

Oh, that wasn't fair. Peter had been having a surprisingly good time up to that point, but now all he'd be able to think of was how El would look after she took that dress off. El winked at him. “I need to go mingle,” she said. “Behave.”

Peter tracked El as she moved around the room. It was a natural instinct, but normally his mind wasn't consumed by the thought of her naked. He absently toyed with a crab puff.

As the hostess, EL couldn't leave before all the guests had. Peter did indeed behave himself. All that undercover work had taught him how to act one way while his mind was on something else. So, he was a perfectly adequate conversationalist, even if his thoughts were focused on kissing the entire length of El's body, starting with the nape of her neck and working down.

Finally, even the catering staff were packing up. El leaned her head against his shoulder. “Let's go home.”

Peter knew El had to be tired from the party, and she might want to go home and go straight to sleep, so he decided not to push. If El turned out to be too tired for sex, Peter could entertain himself. But as soon as they were in the house, she was kissing him hungrily. However tired she was, she wasn't too tired for sex. 

“I've been wanting to do that all night,” she told him sultrily, “and I know that you have too.” She ground her body against his cock.

Peter growled and yanked her hair as he kissed her roughly. El made a little noise of pleasure. “We have to get to the bedroom.” He could barely get the words out. The thought of rutting against El until he came in his pants like an inexperienced teenager was both deeply embarrassing and a little erotic, but either way, El deserved better. 

They made it to the bedroom in record time. They kissed again, Peter running his hands along El's breasts, the soft feel of the fabric exciting all on its own. “Do you know what I wanted to do earlier?” he asked her. “Before we left for the party? I wanted to toss you over my shoulder, take you to the bed, and make love to you until you screamed.”

El grabbed his ass. “What's stopping you?”

And so he did just that. El squealed with delight when he picked her up. He had thought he couldn't get any more turned on, but the feel of El's weight against his back managed it. He was lucky it was only a few steps to the bed, because not touching her, not _properly_ touching her, was driving him insane.

He threw her down on the bed, gently enough not to hurt her, but forcefully enough to excite them both. He started to take his clothes off, but El shook her head. “Leave it on,” she told him.

Peter frowned. “Hon, this is a rental.”

El raised her eyebrows. “And I'm sure the cleaners have seen every stain imaginable. Leave it on,” she repeated, more firmly. 

He was so bad at refusing her. He lay down beside her, fully clothed. She put her hands on his shoulder, the way she did when she wanted him to be still and let her work. She touched him all over, rubbing the fabric of the tux between her fingers. “I think we need to buy you a tuxedo of your own.”

“Waste of money,” Peter replied, surprised he could still form coherent sentences. “I almost never wear them.” 

El smirked. “I'd make you wear them. Not outside. In here.”

Oh. That was different. Peter was sure there was still a cost-benefit argument to be made, but he couldn't think of it right now.

Once she had apparently had enough of caressing him (and the tux), El undid his pants and pushed them and his underwear just far down enough to free his cock. She ran her finger along the shaft, and Peter groaned. El bent down and placed a gentle kiss on the head before she wrapped her lips around it. She stayed in that position for several moments before sliding her lips along the length, taking more and more of him into her mouth. 

Peter's hands tightened in the sheets, “El, please...” He didn't know what he wanted. Her mouth was warm and sweet, and he wanted to come so badly. But that would mean it'd be over for him, and he wasn't ready for it to be over. 

“What do you need?” she asked tenderly, letting him slip out of mouth.

“I need to touch you.” Yes, that was what he needed. He was rock hard and practically ready to burst, but more than anything he wanted to feel her.

She kissed him briefly. “Okay.” She stood up. “Help me get my dress off.”

Wait. “Why do you get to be naked?”

There was a seductive gleam in her eye. “Trust me.” 

Peter did trust her, so he got up as well. He stood behind her and slid the zipper down her back, slowly revealing warm skin. He pushed the dress to the floor, where it lay in a crumpled heap. Then he unhooked her strapless bra, which joined the dress on the floor. El wriggled out of her panties, and turned around. Peter nearly forgot to breath. He had been right to trust her. El was nude except for her jewelry, stockings, and garters. (Lace garters. God, had she been planning this the whole night?) It was possibly the most erotic thing Peter had ever seen.

From the way she was looking at him, El was entirely aware of the effect she was having on him. She lay back down on the bed, her arms above her head and her legs spread wide. “What do you want to do to me?” she questioned, looking at him from beneath her eyelashes.

“Everything.” Peter didn't know where to start. He decided to first kiss her ears, just next to her earrings, the earrings that had been a gift from him, no matter how convoluted the process had been. Then he pressed kisses along her neck, following the line of her choker. On their own, the diamonds would have been nothing more than shiny rocks, but El made them magical.

His hands traveled down her legs until he reached the tops of her garters. He ran his finger under one of them, and El trembled slightly. 

Peter remembered their wedding, how he had slipped her garter off and thrown it into the crowd. It had felt ridiculous and a little cheap. But this was nothing like that. He left the garters on, stroking the smooth skin around them. He dropped his hand and let it rest between her legs, but he didn't move his hand otherwise. Instead, he bent his head and brushed his tongue across her nipple. El's breasts were incredibly sensitive. She liked having them bitten and pinched, but not at first. Peter had to be gentle before he could be rough. 

After kissing and licking her breasts for a few minutes, Peter slid his thumb inside El. She gasped. After a few soft, exploratory strokes, he brushed against her clit. At the same time he nipped her right nipple. El yelped, but it wasn't a sound of pain. “I told you I was going to make you scream,” Peter reminded her huskily. 

He slipped a couple more fingers in and continued to move inside her, but he avoided her clit. He was determined to draw this out. After that one little nip, he went back to his gentle attentions to her breasts, until he suddenly used his unoccupied hand to pinch the underside of her left breast. She twisted and grabbed his arm. “Too much?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “Just enough.”

So, he kept at it, increasing the frequency of the nips and pinches, while gradually hurrying the pace of his fingers inside her. She was soaking wet now, and Peter could tell she was almost there. He started to bite her breasts hard enough to bruise and made sure she felt his nails when he pinched her, until she was moaning and begging for more. Peter kissed her right before he simultaneously took her clit between his fingers and bit down on an already tender place on her breast. She did scream then, as she climaxed. She had tears in her eyes, and it was always disconcerting to see her like this, bruised and teary-eyed, even though he knew he had done nothing she hadn't wanted. But she knew how to ease his worries. She smiled and cuddled up close to him. She reached down and stroked his cock. “I want you inside me again,” she whispered, and Peter didn't need to be asked twice. She was wet and slick, and it was like heaven sliding into her, Peter didn't care how cliché that sounded, but then she clenched her thighs around him and bucked her hips, and if there was something better than heaven, then that was it. He came hard, shouting her name. 

As Peter centered back on reality, he realized he was still wearing the tuxedo, now bedraggled, wet, and stained. There was no way he'd be able to look anyone in the rental agency in the eye when he returned it. But the thought of the later embarrassment didn't make him regret anything. 

El was on her feet and taking off her jewelry. “I'll strip the sheets while you change.” 

Peter nodded. The sheets were a mess. He pulled off the tux and hung it up as best he could, then did the same for El's dress. It was wrinkled and would have to be dry cleaned as well, but at least there weren't any awkward stains. 

El brought in fresh sheets, and they changed into nightclothes before remaking the bed together. Looking at El from across the bed, Peter felt awash with love and contentment.

Once they were under the covers, El wrapped her arms around him. “I think I have to hold more parties.”

Normally, Peter would never agree to a statement like that. But after tonight, he found himself nodding fervently. “Definitely.”

El laughed and kissed him. “Or maybe, next time we'll forget the party and skip straight to the private celebration.”

Peter smiled widely. “Even better,” he said before kissing her back.


End file.
